


Charmed to the Bone

by orphan_account



Category: AFI
Genre: Frat House era, HXC h/c kind of, Humor, M/M, Tour Fic, baby javeys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AFI crash at a squatter house. Davey doesn't want to sleep on the leather couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charmed to the Bone

**Author's Note:**

> ….? I don't know where this came from, but it feels like something I would have written in 2009, in that is it very sweet and uncomplicated, and Davey and Jade are very young and kind of dirty. I hope you guys are still into that. 
> 
> Oh! Every time I refer to "delta" I mean delta-chi, which was the frat house they lived in around that time. I feel like folks know that but otherwise it would seem weird so just in case.

They were possibly the nastiest tour digs Jade had ever seen, and Jade had seen some nasty tour digs in his time. It was some junky house in the middle of a junky neighborhood outside Columbus. It was even junkier than Delta, which had a colony of slugs on the floor in the living room and at least two hundred and sixty three stains on the carpet that were still _sticky_ under his feet if he accidentally stepped on them. If Delta was junky, then this place was just straight up junk. 

They stayed parked out side for a long time in the van trying to make out addresses on the crumbling curbs. No one wanted to get out. “There might be drug dealers,” Davey said like drug dealers were the absolute worst thing he could think of, rubbing at the spot of condensation his breath made on the window. Jade watched, imagining what the cold damp of the glass must feel like under the heel of his hand. 

Smith reached into the backseat and flicked Davey on the ear. “More like there could be deranged hillbillies. New Hampshire Chainsaw Massacre. Or wolves.” 

As if on cue, a lonely howl echoed in the distance, making everyone jump. “Are you sure this is a right place?” Jade asked his brother uneasily. It didn’t _look_ like a legit house, after all. It was in the middle of nowhere, sprawling flat farmland stretching on endlessly beyond the silhouette of an unlit structure that was supposed to be a house, but could have easily been a barn or a haunted church ruin or something. Jade was pretty sure he hated Ohio. 

“Mike gave me very specific directions,” Smith argued, waving the crumpled up receipt he’d written them on in Jade’s face. “Also weren’t you _just_ complaining about how broke we are? If you want to blow sixty bucks on a motel in Columbus tonight, be my guest. But it’s coming out of your food rations.” 

“I’m going in,” Adam announced without warning, unbuckling his seatbelt and unlocking his door. “If the wolves or drug dealers get me, tell my mom I love her.” 

They all watched, silent, as Adam shouldered his backpack and strode meaningfully up to the ugly thing that must have been a door, and knocked. Davey reached for Jade’s knee in the dark and dug his nails in, and it might have made Jade swoon a little bit, which was acceptable since no one was looking at him, four pairs of eyes instead trained anxiously on the shape of Adam slumped in the dark. Jade held his breath, unsure if it was because Davey was touching him or because their drummer might have been moments away from suffering a wolf attack. 

Finally, someone opened the door. That someone didn’t seem to have a chainsaw. “It’s Mike,” Smith sighed, sounding relieved. “Come on.” 

They trumped up to the sagging porch in a line, feeling sheepish. Jade brought up the rear, still half-convinced a mutant or an animal or a mutant animal was still going to spring out of the shadow and snatch one of them to drag off to its lair. His knee was still tingling from where Davey had touched him, like the sting after brushing against a nettle plant. He hated Ohio, and he also hated that sometimes the worst things in life were also the very best.   
\---

Things were a little less alarming looking _inside_ Mike’s giant squatter house, but only a little. The living room was a huge, sprawling thing with a myriad of mismatched furniture, lit exclusively by a few low hanging strings of white christmas lights. Most surfaces were covered in empty or mostly empty beer cans, and the decorations (peeling classic rock posters, a sheet printed in some Arabic design, and a number of mediocre water colors of the same naked woman) looked like they were there to mask considerable water damage and possible rot on the walls. The whole thing smelled like crust punk, but there were no slugs on the floor, at least. 

“It’s nothing special, but its home,” Mike explained, hugging his way down the line somewhat violently, matched only in enthusiasm by Davey, who was a notoriously passionate hugger. He cracked Jade’s back when he got to him. “And rent is wicked cheap since there are so many of us. Lemme give you guys the grand tour, then you can crash. I bet you all are beat.” 

“We really appreciate it,” Jade ground out, rubbing at his spine and wincing. “It’s so...nice. To not have to share a hotel room.” He finished awkwardly, and Smith glared at him across the room. 

“Yeah, it’s not the Waldorf Astoria,” Mike joked. “But it’s free and the fridge is stocked with beer, which y’all can help yourselves to.” 

Instinctively, Jade tried to meet Davey’s gaze so that they could share a private moment. Davey was still looking at Mike though, face split into a grin so wide Jade would have thought it was genuine, if he didn’t know better. Davey was like that, he was really good at playing the part of an ideal host or ideal guest or ideal anything, really. He had that natural social pliancy where he could adapt to whatever, charm whoever. 

Jade felt stupidly sad, stupidly alone since he was looking at Davey but Davey wasn’t looking at him. He wondered when his world had become so focused, so reliant upon exchanging exasperated glances Davey Havok whenever someone assumed they wanted beer because they were in a punk band. Maybe since he moved into Delta, Maybe since they started sharing a room. Certainly since they started writing together, and he started being charmed by Davey, too. Charmed to the bone. 

He rubbed his face with his palms, wishing very badly he wasn’t so exhausted. Otherwise he might be able to effectively block out his invasive Davey-thoughts, he might be able to stop _staring at him,_ zoning out on the back his his head and its mess of sweat-frizzed, dyed purple curls and wondering about the extent of his straightedge irritation, wishing they could feel it together. 

“What’s the sleeping arrangement?” Hunter asked, stretching and yawning as Mike showed them around.The whole house consisted of dirty room after dirty room, some of which were smoke hazy and occupied, people sitting around in a circle passing a pipe, wearing those battle jackets made from nothing but patches and dental floss. Jade kept seeing rats, but luckily they seemed like pet rats. Still. 

“Um, we’ve got three empty beds...my girl is sleeping with me and some people are out of town,” Mike explained, throwing open a rickety door and gesturing. “Then there are two sleep-able couches in the front room.” 

“Dibs on this one,” Adam announced, striding past everyone, collapsing on a shockingly made bed. The room itself was still cluttered in art supplies and booze bottles, but at least there weren’t any food-crusted dishes or cockroaches or anything, both of which Jade had spied earlier on in Mike’s grand tour. 

The next room had two beds on opposite sides, separated by a tattered curtain tacked up to the ceiling. Jade was about to claim it for himself and Davey when he realized how weird it was for him to assume Davey would want to share a room with him just because they did at Delta. In his defense it wouldn’t be _just_ his assumption; the rest of the guys often shoved them into tight sleeping quarters together when there wasn’t enough room, and it wasn’t like Davey ever complained. Still, Jade cut himself off, cheeks heating up at the mere thought of revealing himself and his bullshit to his whole band, his brother, and his brother’s skating buddy from Columbus. 

Smith and Hunter claimed the room abruptly in Jade’s silence. “Sorry guys,” Hunter said, waving down the hall at them as they headed back to the front room and its unseasonable christmas light canopy. “Roomies forever, right?” he joked, and Jade hung his head, staring hard at the worn floor and its layer of grit and dust, thinking again about how the best things were also the worst.

\---

Both couches were leather, much to Davey’s evident dismay. He might have been able to pass off his beer-disgust in favor of being polite, but his face visibly fell when Mike showed them the sofas, a mismatched pair set up in a right angle in the corner of the room, both made from squeaky, worn leather. Davey sank down on one to untie his shoes, wincing at the gross sound of dead-animal skin rubbing against dead-animal skin. Jade, who was less sensitive about such things, cringed on his behalf. 

“They’re comfy,” Mike assured him, wrestling a massive tangle of blankets out from a cupboard that made the whole room smell dank and mildewy. “You can unplug the lights when ever you want,” he added as he turned on his heel, waving at them. “G’night dudes.” 

“Wait!” Davey called after him, nearly tripping over his undone laces as he stood. “Where’s your bathroom? I need to shower; I stink.” 

“Uh, the bathrooms down that hall to the left, but the shower is busted right now. Sorry man. There’s washcloths under the sink, you could get one and wipe yourself off? I dunno.” 

“Oh,” Davey mumbled, face falling again before he recovered it brilliantly, carding a hand through the sweat-stiff whorls of his hair. “That’s fine man, don’t worry about it. Thanks again for letting us crash here, we really, really appreciate it.” 

Jade was suddenly reminded that gratitude was a polite thing express in a situation like this. “Yeah Mike,” he added. “Thanks a lot.” 

“No problem,” Mike said, grinning and saluting. “Peace. Sleep tight. All that.” 

_All that_ , Jade thought in a dazed exhaustion, listening to the sound of footsteps retreat down the hall, followed by that of a shutting door. Immediately afterwards, Davey snapped around and stared at him. “ _No shower_? I feel like I’m made out of velcro, Jade. I’m gonna die,” he whispered harshly. “Also, I do you think they have drinkable water? I have no use for a fridge full of beer.” 

Jade snickered, comforted immensely by the feeling of being _alone_ with Davey again, real and blunt and raw and together, how they usually were, how they’d grown to be. His snicker turned into a deep sigh, and he slouched down onto the couch beside Davey. “I dunno man, a whole fridge. Maybe there’s a soda in there somewhere.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t want a soda, I was water that’s not gonna give me a parasite. And a shower. I am _so sticky_.” 

Jade nodded, bending his arms experimentally and feeling his skin adhere to itself in his elbow ditches. He made a face. “Ugh, me too.” He sank deeper into the couch, very suddenly overcome by an aching, bone deep exhaustion. He felt absurdly tired, too tired to keep himself in check, to make sure he didn’t act weird or obvious about the fact he was stupidly giddy that he and Davey were sleeping a couch apart. Sharing a room with Davey at Delta had made Jade somewhat dependent his presence, his snoring, his bizarre two am existential pondering and inspiring midnight revelations, in order to actually sleep. This made him feel really weird when they slept apart sometimes on tour, unsettled and lonely. It was inconvenient. 

Davey left to bathe himself in the sink, and Jade flopped down on the couch, burying his face in a damp, moldy smelling blanket. He couldn’t stop thinking about Davey’s body all sweat-sticky and sore from the show, so to distract himself he prepared the couches for sleep, divvying out blankets and shaking them free from dust. In doing so he realized that one of the couches was not _actual_ leather, but something synthetic instead, a vinyl or plastic.

Davey emerged looking disgruntled and drippy, his hair wet and leaking in faint purple rivulets down his neck, makeup smeared and dark beneath his eyes. He was wearing nothing but threadbare boxers and a hugely oversized Neurosis shirt, and to avoid looking at the white hairy vulnerability of his legs, Jade started babbling. “So this couch, the long one, is like some weird plastic and not leather at all, so you should sleep on that one. So you don’t have to lie on carcass or whatever.” 

Davey blinked, staring hard at Jade. “What? No, dude. Your legs are gonna hang off that one,” he said, gesturing to the leather couch, which was also considerably smaller than the synthetic one. 

“So are yours,” Jade shrugged. “It’s cool; I don’t mind.” 

Davey shook his head, flinging cold droplets into the air, some of which lander on Jade’s cheek, his lips. He fought not to lick them away, and failed. “You’re sweet,” Davey said, sinking down on the leather couch and looking defeated, “But don’t worry about it. I can stomach a leather couch for one night.”

Pushing the matter further seemed weird and transparent, so Jade let it drop, changed the subject. “How was your sponge bath?” 

“Ugh,” Davey said, rolling his eyes. “The so-called wash cloths under the sink had shit growing on them and smelled like wet dog. I just used my hands, so it wasn’t the most comprehensive job.” 

“Gross,” Jade sighed, rising and heading to the bathroom for his own not-sponge bath. “I didn’t think I’d miss dive motels, or Delta for that matter, but here I am.” 

“Dude,” Davey sighed, face crumpling into a pained expression. “I miss our room at Delta _so_ much.” 

Something expanded in Jade’s chest, something shaped like the word _our_. He tried to pop it, but couldn’t find the energy, and instead just allowed it to grow. 

\---

Teeth brushed and the worst of the show-scum rinsed from his arms, Jade returned to the front room and found Davey curled up tight on the smaller, more dead couch, bedded down in a pilling polar fleece blanket. He looked really pathetic. “Did you check out the washcloths?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Jade answered, wrinkling his nose. “They were like science experiments.” 

Davey nodded, yawning, and Jade could feel his eyes boring holes into his back as he shuffled awkwardly around the room until he found where the christmas lights were plugged in, and yanked them from the outlet. Legs aching and cheeks fever hot from the sensation of Davey _watching_ him, Jade slid into the nest of blankets on the couch, pillowing his head on his arms since Mike didn’t offer them more than the single sham cushion in regards to neck support. Whatever. It was one night and Jade was exhausted. 

He was about to drift off when he heard Davey’s voice, quiet and hoarse in the darkness. “Jade?” it asked. “Are you awake?” 

“Yeah,” Jade answered, shifting his weight and making the couch upholstery squeak spectacularly.

Davey rolled over, his couch making the same stupid noise before he announced. “I can’t sleep.” 

“Are the washcloths haunting you?” Jade asked. 

“No. Well, yes. Those, and I’m still so sticky, and this blanket smells like weed smoke, and I thought I could do it, I really did, but I just can’t stop thinking about the fact that I’m lying on a bunch of dead cow skins, Jade. It’s so gross. It’s fucking morbid.” He coughed, then added, “I shouldn’t complain, Mike is really cool for letting us crash here, but dude. This place is _such_ a dump.” 

Jade laughed, relieved Davey had finally and officially dropped every layer of his gracious guest pretense. He liked him best this way, real and frank and kind of bitchy. His laughter dissolved into wheezes, and before he thought better of it he offered, “If you want you can just come over here. There’s room for both of us and it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” He immediately regretted it as he said it, realizing with a pang of icy dread in his chest that the more acceptable thing to offer would be to _trade_. Not to _share_. He hid his face in his blanket, even though it was pitch black and Davey couldn’t see him. 

“Are you sure?” Davey asked, expression also unreadable in the darkness. 

“Yeah,” Jade answered in spite of himself, so exhausted and hungry for every ounce of Davey’s closeness and reality that he didn’t even think of an excuse to backpedal and save himself. 

He regretted it, but not for very long, since he heard Davey get up and stumble across the divide towards him, hand out and reaching until it made contact with Jade’s shoulder, electric and terrifying. “Scoot over,” he mumbled, and Jade did. 

Something about the situation made Jade feel reckless, untouchable, magic. Normally he wouldn’t allow himself to fall into these traps where he was stuck being physical with Davey; they were always stressful and confusing. Sometimes he could convince himself whatever he felt for Davey was just some warped version of romantic friendship, but if they shared and bed or were pressed up against each other in a crowd or something, Jade _had_ to accept that among other things, Davey made him hard. His skin, the way he smelled, the flash of his smile, all of it. Jade was forced to admit in these moments he was at least a little gay, so he tried to avoid such moments at all costs. 

But tonight felt different. He shifted closer to the back cushions of the couch to make room for Davey, who slid in alongside him, hair damp and skin cool with tap water. Maybe it was the dark, maybe it was his exhaustion, maybe it was the fact they were in the middle of nowhere Ohio in some squatter dump surrounded by killer wolves and it all inspired a sense of _carpe diem_ , but he felt like he could _do_ anything, _touch_ in any way and there would be no fallout, no consequences, no regret. Jade reached for Davey and found the jut of his elbow, guided him gently down beside him. 

They laid in the dark, fitting together tightly and naturally, like silverware. Jade breathed from Davey’s hair, his heartbeat thundering against his spine, hand wandering lightly down his ribcage until it stopped at the notch of his waist, where it stayed. Davey said nothing, just settled against him, chest rising and falling in time with his breath. 

“Are you, uh. Like comfortable and stuff?” Jade asked after awhile, palm sweating against Davey’s shirt, wanting so very badly to push up under it. 

Davey nodded, the shift making Jade’s lips ghost across the back of his neck. He held his breath as Davey said, “Yeah. Believe it or not I’d actually way rather share a couch with you than sleep on a dead animal.”

“I believe it,” Jade said quietly, too solemnly. He coughed and added, “are you gonna be able to sleep at all though? You’re such a princessy sleeper.” 

“Probably not,” Davey admitted, turning around to half-look at Jade, eyes nothing but a pair of shining slivers in the dark. Jade’s mouth went dry; he was dizzy with the taste of Davey’s breath against his lips, minty and perfect. “But it’s fine, still would rather be here,” Davey mumbled. 

Jade’s heart was beating so fast he knew Davey could feel it, rapid and terrified against him. Jade was about to sit up, recover and save face before Davey could tell that this wasn’t just a romantic friendship and he actually made Jade hard, actually made him a little gay, when Davey’s hand inched over Jade’s, sealing it against himself. 

\---

 

“Um,” Jade said, twitching beneath Davey’s fingers, breath coming out fast and uneven. “Do you want me to move it?” 

“No,” Davey whispered, tracing Jade’s knuckles, then further up his wrist. 

Jade froze, hand tightening involuntarily against Davey’s body as Davey shifted so their legs twined, fitting their bodies more closely together. Jade felt like he was falling apart, like their combined exhaustion and the impossible Ohio darkness was somehow erasing any unspoken boundaries they might have had, smudging them into nothingness. Davey was acting like this was normal, and maybe for him, it was. Jade had no idea. Davey was a physically affectionate guy, maybe he held all his friend’s hands when they spooned him, maybe it didn’t mean shit. 

Or, maybe it did. Jade wet his lips anxiously with his tongue, charmed to the bone, head clouded by the muddled, sleepy unreality of 3am, of Davey touching his hands all clumsy and half-awake. His heart thundered as he let his thumb rub gently over Davey’s side, the shift of worn fabric over soft skin and then, before Jade had time to prepare himself, Davey turned around in the cage of his arm so that they were facing each other, breath all over the other’s lips. 

“Dave,” Jade murmured, nothing else to say, his mind a mess of static and nerves, his hands shaking. He felt drunk on Davey’s smell, his toothpaste and his dirty hair and home, so many miles away, a bed they sometimes shared but not like this. Nothing felt real; he couldn't see Davey in the dark, he could only feel him, the brush of his brow against his cheek, the wild chaos of his exhalations, his legs rubbing up and between Jade’s and was too much. He was definitely hard, and Davey definitely must have noticed because he was locking their hips together, pushing up against Jade, making him groan. 

“Are you scared?” Davey asked, voice very low.

“I don’t know,” Jade mumbled, air hissing through his teeth. He swallowed, stunned by the way Davey was touching him, his hand rubbing up Jade’s forearm to his neck, thumbing into his pulse. “Dunno what’s happening.” 

“I...” Davey started, rolling his hips into Jade’s and making a short, strangled breathy sound against his mouth. The air around them was suddenly so hot, so close, so tight, Jade felt strangled to death as Davey continued, “Is this okay?” 

“Yeah,” Jade said, palming up Davey’s ribcage, awed by the slide of skin over bones and muscle, the way his his shirt caught and snagged on dry sweat. “Yeah, totally. I just...I. Are you ok? Do you want--fuck,” Jade gasped as Davey leaned in closer and opened his mouth on his neck, all slick burning heat and the sweep of his tongue over the mess of Jade’s pulse. 

Davey mouthed messily up to his jawline, ragged breath and teeth at his jugular. “Yes,” he breathed, voice shaking with want, with fear, something. “I want it. I want everything, want every part of you in every way, have for so long, Jade,” he confessed. “I’m sorry if that’s too much, but I have to tell you.” 

It struck Jade like a punch, made his stomach contract and flip over, made his dick twitch in his boxers, trapped against the heat of Davey’s thighs. “Fuck,” he said again, right up against the corner of Davey’s mouth. “Me too,” he said, carding his hand through Davey’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp. “Was so worried it would freak you out.” 

Davey made a noise, somewhere between a whimper and a tiny, scoffing laugh. Then, finally, he kissed him. Tilted his head up and caught Jade’s mouth with his own, a soft, warm drag of his lips before he put his teeth in it, licked Jade open, split him with his tongue. Jade groaned out loud, overcome, holding Davey’s face between his palms as they kisses and kissed.

He couldn’t believe this was happening; it didn’t seem real. But it had to be because the room still smelled like weed and mildew and crust punk, the synthetic couch was still squeaking obnoxiously as they ground against each other, as Davey shoved Jade by his shoulders into the cushions and swung his leg over him to straddle his hips. 

Jade bucked up against him, head thrown back as Davey kissed up his throat, messy and wet and hungry, hands in Jade’s hair, under his shirt. The weight of him in Jade’s lap was unbelievable. Jade couldn’t stop saying his name as he worked his hips up against him in graceless bucks, raw and unsteady until he forgot everything else, forgot he was on some stranger’s couch in Ohio, (which he was pretty sure he no longer hated). 

“Dave,” he mumbled, hands gripping the tight flexing curve of Davey’s ass as they ground together, keeping them flush.The whole universe behind his eyelids was whited out in stars, everything was so hot and so warm and Davey smelled so _fucking_ good and Jade couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t survive, he was going to die in this shitty house after all. “Dave, ah- fuck,” he groaned as he came, arching his spine up off the couch and emptying himself slick and messy onto the inside of his boxers. 

“Oh my god,” Davey breathed out, one hand tight on Jade’s throat as it happened, the other holding himself steady so he could feel the tremors of Jade’s body, ride them to their end. “Jade.”

Jade went limp under him, panting as his vision returned in hazy blotches of dark. They laid together, panting, cooling, sweat collecting in the creases of their skin and there they were still touching. Jade was splayed out across Jade, and Jade didn’t want him to move, not now, not ever. He couldn’t really breath, but breathing seemed superfluous when Davey was the thing preventing him from doing it. 

\---

After a minute, Davey peeled himself off Jade’s chest with a groan. Air rushed back into Jade’s lungs and he regained his voice, though it was hoarse, shaky. “I can’t believe...” he started, but there were too many things he couldn’t believe right now to even begin to list them, so he just settled upon the most pressing. “I haven’t come in my pants since I was seventeen.” 

Davey laugh, a bright, clear, real laugh that made Jade’s stomach coil and twist again. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Davey said, sounding kind of shy. “Also, me either.” 

Jade reached for Davey, brow furrowed and fingers skating down his chest, to the hem of his briefs. “Wait, did you...?” 

“Yeah,” Davey breathed, taking Jade’s hand in his own and guiding it to a damp, sticky patch on threadbare cotton. Jade could feel the still-thick outline of his cock through the fabric, and swallowed noisily, face unbearably hot. He covered his face with one hand to hide his blush, even though it was still pitch black and Davey couldn’t see him. 

“Fuck,” he murmured from beneath his fingers. “I didn’t even notice, it felt so good I felt crazy. Like, blind.” 

“I know,” Davey whispered, palms splayed on Jade’s chest, thumbing over his ribs. “It was really hot.” 

The reality of having shot a load in his boxers was beginning to dawn on Jade, stickiness of it cooling on his thigh and drying into a crust in his pubes. It was gross, and the idea of rinsing himself off in the sink at this place was almost grosser. He felt like a teenager at a sleepover. “Dude,” he mumbled. “I guess it’s time for sponge bath part two, huh?” 

“Fun,” Davey said, sliding off of Jade and making a noise like he might be oversensitive, like his jizz was also cold and sticky and uncomfortable. Jade was pretty appalled at how bad he had it, seeing as the notion of Davey’s load drying in his briefs sent a curl of heat through his guts to think about. 

“Come on,” he said, hands on Davey’s hips as he stumbled towards the bathroom. “At least we didn’t get eaten by wolves. And at least you don’t have to sleep on cow skins or drink a whole fridge full of beer.” 

“At least,” Davey mumbled, leaning in to kiss Jade but missing, catching him sloppily on the chin instead. “There were no drug dealers. And it didn’t freak you out that I want you so bad it’s, like. Cosmic.” 

Jade flicked on the bathroom light, making them both squint blearily at each other, faces scrunched up and cheeks flushed, hair a collective mess. Jade couldn’t believe it, the perfect way Davey looked with his lips swollen from kissing, the sheepish hunch of his shoulders as he looked him over, eyes lingering on his stained briefs. “God, no,” he sighed, hiding his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Pretty much all I’ve been able to think about for months is how badly I want you to cosmically want me, so, yeah. Um. It works out.” 

Davey shoved Jade up against the filthy wall of the filthy bathroom and kissed him hard. It felt like planets aligning, meteors converging, galaxies being born, his bones ground to dust. _All that_ , Jade thought, and kissed him back.

\---


End file.
